Halo: The Forerunner Legacy
by The Illuminated Pen
Summary: After the events of Halo 3, the Chief and Cortana managed to end the terrible HumanCovenant war with their heroic deed. But unbeknownst to them, their actions have set in motion a machine more ancient than the Forerunners themselves: the Precursor Sphere.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue **

_"Chief. . ." A word; a phrase. A rank. _

_A name. _

_John-117, hero of the entire human race, awoke to total darkness. _

_"Chief. Please, wake up." The female voice, so desperately familiar, pleaded with him to return to waking consciousness. John obliged and finally put a name to the voice. It's melodic, friendly, feminine tone that could easily become fierce and iron-hard to the point where it outdid his rasping one became instantly recognizable. _

_"Cortana." A flat statement to the regular human ear, but to the Artificial Intelligence, a burst of emotional relief of being alive. _

_"Finally. About time you woke up, you dunderhead. Had me worried that you might have finally cracked open that genetically enhanced skull of yours." Her voice belied the immense worry that had been eating away at her circuits. The Master Chief felt some guilt at having caused his A.I. companion great distress, but having been trained as a Spartan all his life, quickly dealt aside the feeling. It would cloud his judgment and distract him from what was important. _

_Surviving. Winning the fight. _

_But, the Chief still was human. "No thanks to your driving, I might add", he said dryly, and gave a reassuring pat on his head (meant for Cortana). _

_He felt her smile at the friendly gesture. _

_John activated his helmet's lights and surveyed his surroundings. There was no light except for his helmet's, and that didn't even do much but to provide some murky visibility. His lights illuminated the hull of a ship, gray and lifeless. _

_And then it hit him. Halo. _

_"Cortana – what happened?" _

_"Halo fired", she simply replied. _

_A memory of a searing flash of light, and the sound of screaming metal crashed into his thoughts like a tsunami; the Spartan shook his head to be rid of the terrible event. As usual, John's amazingly good luck had pulled them through once more. They had survived the ancient weapon's destructive power. _

_The Chief recalled their ally, the Arbiter. He asked Cortana of the Elite's whereabouts. _

_"I'm sorry Chief, but I'm not really sure. My scans indicate that he's not here with us. I think he was able to make the jump, but. . ." _

_"But without leaving something behind. Let me guess. The ship broke in half." _

_"Yes", was Cortana's level reply. _

_"And we were unlucky enough to be on the half left behind." _

_"Right again." Cortana's voice had become flat and lifeless. Robotic. _

_The Chief sighed. It was an uncommon outburst of emotion from him – and showed just how tired he really was. _

_"I'm sorry, John. I really am." Cortana had never used his name before, and it revealed how deep she had become attached to him. The Spartan and the A.I. shared a bond deeper than most married couples would never be able to forge in a lifetime, thanks to the harrowing experiences they had shared together. They had seemed an unlikely pair at first, but inseparable once they had begun trusting each other. _

_"It's okay. We'll find a way out. We always do." An Assault Rifle floated by in the weightless space, and the Chief grabbed it. Checking the clip to make sure it was full, he pushed off the hull with his MJOLNIR armored legs and began to float his way forward, making his way through the silent bowels of the wrecked ship. _

**Back on Earth. . . **

Petty Officer First Class Sam Thompson was on graveyard duty. Again.

He hated graveyard duty. Sitting at a station, staring at a holographic screen which would track any incoming ships or objects heading toward Earth's atmosphere and register them as colored blips. Blue for friendly, yellow for unknown, and red for enemy. It was an extremely important job, and there was usually only one person available at a time to do it. The UNSC forces had been devastated by the Human-Covenant war and the numbers remaining were tiny. Humanity was stretched thin; but alive nonetheless. Hanging on to the edge.

Admiral Lord Hood hadn't tried to make the position sound interesting. While being briefed, Admiral Hood stated to Thompson quite bluntly, "Son, I'm not going to bull-crap you. It's boring as hell. But someone has to do it." He eyed Thompson with the seasoned look of a war veteran. "You're a brave man. You seen action, son?"

Thompson replied nervously, "Only some, sir. I served with the Chief before he went MIA."

"Ah. I see." Admiral Hood seemed to consider something. "So you believe the Master Chief is still out there somewhere? Alive?" he asked skeptically.

Thompson's reply was firm and unhesitant. "Of course I do, sir. Everyone I know believes that he's out there, still hanging on like the rest of us."

Admiral Hood nodded, still unsure. "What makes you think that?"

"He once told me during his last mission, that he would never give up while humanity still needed him to fight. We still need him, sir. Quite badly, I think, with the peace between us and the Covenant being so fragile."

Lord Hood turned around and placed his hands behind his back, staring off into nothing. "Couldn't have stated it better myself, Thompson."

The Admiral clapped a hand on Thompson's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Smiling widely he said, "Thank you, Sam. You just got yourself a well-earned promotion."

Thompson was puzzled. "For what, sir?"

"For convincing me to put my faith back into the lucky bastard. He survived two Halos'; what's one more? What you just said has added a second objective to your mission, making it all the more crucial in our effort for galactic peace."

"Second objective? Sir?" Thompson was still bewildered.

"Yes. I want you to keep an eye out for the Master Chief, for when he comes back."

Thompson swallowed as he faced the sudden magnitude of his assignment. "How – how will I know it's him, sir?"

Admiral Hood chuckled dryly. "Oh, trust me; you'll know. The Chief always likes to make an entrance, wherever he goes."

_

* * *

__At last, the Chief found what he was searching for. A cryogenic tube where he could take shelter and rest up for whatever lied ahead. He placed the Assault Rifle into a weapon rack right next to the tube, and began to slide inside. _

_Cortana had been reluctant about the whole plan. But in the end, it was all they had. The Chief couldn't stay in space forever – his suit had a limited supply of oxygen. Better asleep, than dead in the void of space. _

_But still, Cortana did not like it. _

"_Chief, there's got to be something else I can do. Just floating around, helpless, sending a distress signal in the middle of unknown space isn't the best plan we've come up with yet." Her eyes glowed red for a moment, temporarily exposing her fury at the feeling of being helpless. The concept of being helpless was foreign to her, and she could not accept that fact that they truly were powerless to change their fate. _

"_Do you have another idea?" The Chief was fatigued, and was in no mood to bicker with Cortana about other escape plans. _

"_Yes. Perhaps I could route some excess power to the engines and fashion some sort of crude steering device and get us the hell out of here." She sounded confident, almost arrogantly so. _

"_Where are you going to get the extra power? The generators were ripped apart in the explosion, and even if we could find a way to repair them, there wouldn't be enough to power the Dawn's engines." The Chief didn't like being the bearer of bad news, but reality was reality, no matter how hard you tried to defy it. Sometimes you just had to go with the flow of things and hope for the best. _

_Cortana was silent. _

_Then, after what seemed to be an eternity, she spoke. Quietly, barely a whisper, she said, "I'm going to miss you, John. I mean that as a friend." _

_A friend. Cortana was the closest thing he had to a friend; Sergeant Johnson had died on Halo after the traitorous monitor Guilty Spark zapped him in the back with a sentinel beam. Cortana was all he had left now. _

_He replied, "Wake me – if you need me." _

_The door slid shut over his armored body, and John-117 finally got the rest he deserved. Cortana wiped away holographic tears. Her body had taken on a weak shade of pale blue, implying the pent-up volatile mix of emotions that was surging through her emotional circuitry. The female A.I. hastily shut the overworked circuits down. She would need total concentration for the task ahead. _

_Regaining her composure, she began to utter a single line over and over as per UNSC protocol: _

"_Mayday, Mayday, this is UNSC A.I. Cortana onboard the ship Forward Unto Dawn; I have Spartan-117 with me. Our ship was severely damaged after the firing of the Halo ring while attempting to escape and we need immediate rescue. I repeat, this is UNSC A.I. Cortana onboard the ship Forward Unto Dawn; I have Spartan 117 with me. Our ship was severely damaged after the firing of the Halo ring while attempting to escape and we need immediate rescue. . ." _

_Cortana's voice echoed into the dark recesses of space bouncing off meteorites and planets, reaching far beyond the stars and finally being heard by a strange object floating in a region far from normal space. Shaped like a sphere, it was old – older than the humans, or the Covenant, or even the Forerunners themselves. _

_It was called the Precursor Sphere; and after having slept for millennia it had finally began to stir once more, its ancient gears whirring to life. _

_The Forerunners weren't the only ones who left toys behind. _

_The Precursor Sphere let out an unearthly groan as though it was alive. Cortana's message came through once more, thick with static but audible: "Mayday, Mayday, this is UNSC A.I. Cortana onboard the ship Forward Unto Dawn: I have Spartan-117 with me. Our ship was severely damaged after the firing of the Halo ring while attempting to escape and we need immediate rescue. . ." _

_The Sphere groaned once more and unseen engines began to power up. The Sphere moved slowly, gradually toward its ultimate objective. _

_The destruction of all Forerunners. _

**

* * *

****2 Years Later. . . **

Chief Petty Officer Sam Thompson sat once more at his post, and wearily watched the holographic monitor once more. No blips. No _nothing_. Just infinite space and an aching need to get a new job. But Admiral Lord Hood's talk with him from two years ago still persisted viciously in his mind, and he endured the boredom chewing away at his thinning patience.

Besides he had volunteered for the assignment anyway; and he still believed that the Master Chief was still out there somewhere. Hanging on, despite the fact that it had been two long years since any contact with the lost Spartan.

Chief Thompson rubbed his scraggly beard that he had been neglecting to shave for a couple days. Why bother? It was just him down there.

"Are your rubbing that goddamn beard again? It's not a magic lamp, you know; no genie will come out if you rub it three times", said an annoyingly sweet voice.

Well, just him and the A.I. companion – Penelope.

A short, blond haired, blue-eyed woman traipsed into the room.

Thompson scowled. "Penelope, aren't you supposed to be recharging?"

"Nah. This body doesn't need a recharge for another couple days, remember? New issue." The woman patted herself on the chest, smiling widely all the while. Thompson found the smile almost obscene.

His feelings must have been conveyed onto his face, because Penelope stopped suddenly and began to frown. "You never want to have any fun, Sam", she pouted. "That's what I'm here for; to keep you entertained and give you some company so that you don't go nuts in this little cave of yours."

Penelope batted her eyes seductively, and winked at Thompson. "You know my offer from last night still stands. I'm always here if you need me – I can provide for your physical needs as well."

"I'm married, Penelope."

"She'll never know."

Shaking his head, Thompson returned his gaze to the holographic monitor, holding a steaming mug of hot coffee (recently synthesized) in his hand.

His jaw dropped.

Yelping, he jumped up and grabbed Penelope.

She seemed confused at first, and then began to smile coyly. "My, you changed your mind fast."

Ignoring the quip, he gave Penelope the order that had been burned into his memory whenever something entered his monitor. "Penelope, this is a Code Alpha – we have an unidentified object hurtling towards Earth's atmosphere. Contact Admiral Hood right now!"

"Unidentified?" Penelope strolled toward the monitor, suddenly business-like. Code and data streamed down her eyes, giving them an eerie glowing quality. Her lips were a blur as she transmitted all the data into her neural circuits and stored it somewhere safe.

A second later she finished. Turning toward Thompson she asked, in a whisper, "You think it could be him?"

Thompson grinned for the first time in two years. "Of course it's him. Who else could make an entrance like that?"

Still uncertain, but obeying the order nonetheless, Penelope disappeared into another room and began the process of contacting Admiral Hood. Thompson stayed at his post, his heart beating madly. It was the Chief, he knew it was. That gut feeling had kept him alive before, and he trusted it with his life, just like he trusted it now. It hadn't failed him before.

Fiddling with the monitor he tried to pick up something, anything from the rapidly descending ship – and abruptly, a voice broke through the static. Feminine – and desperate.

"Mayday, Mayday, this is UNSC A.I. Cortana onboard the ship _Forward Unto Dawn_; I have Spartan-117 with me. Our ship was severely damaged after the firing of Halo, and we are rapidly approaching Earth with no way to control our descent! We need instant rescue! Can anyone here me?!"

Thompson barely managed to secure a line to the A.I. "Cortana, this Chief Petty Officer Sam Thompson here. Help is on the way, I repeat, help is on the way." He could barely contain the excitement in his voice. The Master Chief was alive!

"Thompson is it? Thank God, it's been ages since I've heard a proper human voice. It's good to be home, soldier!"

Another voice cut in, and for one heart-stopping moment, Thompson felt time freeze. The voice was instantly familiar; definitely male, iron-hard, and rasping. The Master Chief. Spartan-117, the savior of the human race.

"Cut the chatter, Cortana. We're not out of this yet."

Almost yelling into the communication channel, Thompson near shouted, "Chief?! Is that you?!"

If they heard him, he couldn't tell. The conversation resumed, uninterrupted, and Cortana replied, "Ah, I see Sleeping Beauty's awake. What the hell took you so long? I was banging on your door for at least an hour and a half!"

"I noticed the ship was burning."

"Oh, gee, you think?" Cortana's voice was dripping with unveiled sarcasm. "It's about damn time you woke up and got that shiny metal ass out of that tube."

The Chief replied in kind. "No thanks to your driving, I might add." Thompson drilled a finger into each of his ears to check his hearing. Seeing that nothing was obstructing his eardrum, he couldn't believe it. Did the Master Chief just use humor? He didn't know Spartans had a sense of humor, let alone crack a sarcastic quip like that. It was actually somewhat funny.

Cortana made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. "Good to have you back, Chief. I've missed you."

The Master Chief didn't verbally acknowledge her affection, but Thompson could imagine him nodding all the same.

"Any idea how we're going to get out of this one, Spartan?" Cortana asked rather cheerfully.

"Yeah. We jump."

Silence.

"Run that by me again; you want to _jump_." Her voice had a heavy sardonic ring to it. "Does that MJOLNIR suit have any wings installed on it recently? Yeah, I didn't think so. Tell me Spartan, did you ever hear the tale of Icarus and his magical flying wings? 'Cause you're about to pull the same stunt here. With the same results."

"We time the jump. Once the ship burns through most of the atmosphere –"

"In one piece that is. Assuming."

"-we jump and allow the suit to take most of the impact. I've done this before. Without your help, I might add."

"Your suit is still heavily damaged from all the fighting from the previous two Halo installations. If the atmosphere doesn't cook you up from traveling at such an absurd speed, then the rock solid ground you're going to collide with is going to definitely finish off what's left of you; the shock to your body would scramble your guts for as far as the eye could see. Chief, it's crazy."

Thompson would have agreed, but he had lost connection momentarily. Penelope was still in the other room, hurriedly briefing a recently awakened Admiral Hood on the situation.

"You have any other suggestions?"

"Unfortunately for both us, I like crazy. I chose you after all."

"I thought it was for luck."

"Craziness and luck are two things closely intertwined, Chief. You should know that better than anyone."

Thompson returned to the conversation, having regained the signal and was distracted by the banter between the Chief and Cortana as they laid out their rather impetuous plan, while Thompson tried to provide any assistance needed. If he hadn't been preoccupied though, he would have noticed on the holographic monitor that something else was heading toward Earth. It was another unknown foreign object. It wasn't of any Forerunner, Human, or Covenant design, though. It looked old – terribly old and ancient.

And another weird thing.

It was shaped like a sphere.

* * *

Illuminated Pen here. This isn't my first time writing for I assure you, dear reader, I've contributed works here before. But I had a kind of falling out with my writing skills (my stories were becoming bizarre and strange to the point where I sometimes wonder if I was taking any drugs at the time I was typing them) and gave up. Bad idea. So I started anew with a different pen name and a new story; Halo! I hope you like it (and yes, I do own Halo 3; excellent game). Read and review! 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 **

There was an immense groaning of twisted metal, and the inner hull plating finally came lose in the Master Chief's iron grip. Eyeing his prize, he took a mental assessment of what lied ahead, and took a gander at his chances of survival.

As usual – slim to none.

So yeah, a basically good chance, he thought dryly.

"Chief, do I need to remind you that we're accelerating towards the Earth's atmosphere in a useless piece of metallic junk?" Cortana interrupted. "Or do I need to send a neural shockwave through your body to get you going?" Her voice was strained.

"Right. Sorry." He continued on with his grim task, eyeing the thick slab of metal gripped in his MJOLNIR gauntlets. "What do you think?"

He felt, rather than saw, Cortana making her calculations. "It'll have to do."

Thompson's voice buzzed in, barely filtering through the almost impenetrable static: ". . . don't have much time left!"

The Master Chief smacked his helmet, trying to get a better reception. "Say again, Thompson, I repeat, say again."

"Chief . . . running out of time . . . preparing to shoot . . . trying to . . . they think you're . . ." There was a click, and Thompson's voice buzzed out again.

He spoke to Cortana. "Any idea what that was about?"

She shook her head – an odd sensation considering it happened inside his skull – and said, "Too much static. Couldn't make out a damn thing . . ."

The Master Chief shrugged. "Hope it was nothing important –"

The ship suddenly violently shuddered, twisted, and practically rolled over. The Chief was sent spinning, and he collided heavily into a twisted steel bar hanging from the overhead. His vision going black with pain, he struggled to hear the words being shouted at him from inside his skull. It was Cortana.

There was a sudden sucking sensation. John felt himself begin pulled down the hallway into the blackness.

Cortana was shouting, her familiar voice cutting through the madness.

"John! Get up!"

"What's happened?" He shook his head to clear his muddled thoughts, and finally got his vision to focus. What John saw in front of him, he did not like very much. The blackness of space, like an open maw ready to swallow him up, was staring at him from down the ruined hallway. His body slid forward easily, as though he was a piece of dirt being picked up by a vacuum cleaner.

"What's happened? I'll tell you what's happened, Spartan." Cortana's voice was bordering on hysterical. She seemed to find the situation funny.

"I think a door's just been opened for us."

The Chief abruptly understood Cortana's plan. "And we're going through it." He gripped the thick metal in his hands even tighter. This was it.

Right back in the action. Smack dab in the thick of it.

Welcome home, he thought – and then ran straight towards the gaping hole, ready to be swallowed by the infinite darkness of space once more.

Throwing himself headfirst into the depth of a battle millenniums in the making, Spartan-117 jumped off the burning _Ready at Dawn _and prepared for war.

The Arbiter was troubled.

It had been several peaceful cycles since the end of the Human-Covenant War. The Covenant was now a thriving species, and helping their newfound human allies to rebuild their shattered world. It was a sight to behold.

But, he knew even then, that it would not last. And finally that dreaded day had come, when the bells of chaos would ring and darkness would spread over the horizon, once bright and hopeful.

Something had been spotted traveling toward Covenant space. The troops had been gathered, and all weapons were aimed at the sky.

Whatever it was, this spherical object, it had no idea of what lay ahead. It was about to match wits with the Covenant, which despite its heavy losses from the war, was still a force to be reckoned with.

"Come strange object." The Arbiter muttered to no one in particular. "Come face the Covenant, and face your doom." He smiled – as good as peace was, nothing could match the honor and feeling of being at war.

"Arbiter?" It was the Ship Master who had allied with the humans near the end of the war. "It is time. We must move out. The sphere approaches quickly."

The Arbiter nodded absentmindedly, his eyes still focused on the stars. "What is it?" the Ship Master asked, worried.

"He is alive."

"Who?"

"The demon." It was spoke with respect and not hatred. The Covenant now worshiped and revered the demon that had saved their species from destruction at the hands of the insidious Flood. A colossal statue was built in his image, and serves as a reminder that humans can be as noble and tenacious in combat as any Elite warrior.

"How are you sure?"

"I am not. I just know."

The Ship Master nodded. "We must go, Arbiter."

The Arbiter nodded, took his eyes off the stars and headed toward the banshee that would take him to the fleet waiting in orbit.

As they lifted off into the atmosphere, the ship rocked back and forth violently, and the pilot struggled with the controls for several tense minutes. Finally, he managed to get it under control, and the banshee sailed into space.

"Sorry about that, Arbiter. A storm is brewing."

The Arbiter nodded, deep in thought. "Yes", he said, eyeing the ready fleet waiting for his command, "in more ways than one."

It was getting a little toasty in the MJOLNIR suit, the Master Chief had to admit.

Clutching the piece of hull plating to his back, he twisted and aimed his back toward Earth. Cortana's plan was simple: the metal, which had been designed to withstand the extreme temperature and intense strain of re-entry would act as a buffer. The MJOLNIR suit could withstand the rest. Kind of like a falling brick.

Yeah, okay, whatever.

"So who's idea was this?" The Chief grumbled out.

"Don't be a smartass, Spartan. Just because I'm rerouting all energy to the shields doesn't mean I can't find some way to injure you. I am in your mind after all."

Something caught the Master Chief's attention. Something – huge.

A sphere.

"Cortana, what is that?"

Voice strained, she replied, "I really can't talk right now, John."

There was an explosion, and John's shield flared dangerously. Cortana cussed in the Covenant language. The Master Chief was amazed – he hadn't heard her do that before.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed.

Another explosion, and the metallic hull was almost ripped from John's grip. Then Thompson's voice abruptly broke through: " . . . can you hear me?"

"Read you loud and clear, Thompson", said the Chief.

"Thank God. I thought that they had already shot you down."

A pause.

"Repeat that, Thompson. You thought that they had already _what_?"

"They're firing at you, Master Chief."

"_Why_?"

"Well, they think you're some kind of falling object from that Precursor thingy."

The Master Chief suddenly knew that Cortana was listening in.

"Cortana? What's up?"

"Precursor . . . it sounds so familiar, I can't remember –"

BOOM.

Things were heating up. "We'll figure it out later", the Chief grunted out as the metallic shield he was gripping threatened to tear loose from his already crushing grip. "Let's focus on this first."

John couldn't help but glance at the mysterious floating sphere – bronze and decorated with symbols that were similar to Forerunner, yet wholly different. Incredible. He felt a growing sense of dread. His experience with the technology of long dead races wasn't exactly a fond memory he'd like to re-visit.

"Chief!"

The warning came too late. As he tried desperately to swerve to the side, a missile came out from the side and exploded. Pieces of shrapnel splashed all over his weakening shields. Cortana cussed in another different language.

The piece of hull ripped out of the Master Chief's hands.

Before the world turned to fire in front of his eyes, he muttered, "Out of the frying pan and into the friggin' fire."

Thompson tried to explain once more. "That is not a piece of debris falling from the Precursor spheroid! It is the Master Chief!"

The person he was talking to wasn't the Admiral, unfortunately. It was only Thompson, the Admiral, and few other people, who continued to believe that the Chief was alive.

The guy in the holoscreen wasn't one of them.

"We can't take any risks at the moment. It's a foreign object, and anything falling towards Earth must be taken as unknown and dangerous. Besides, the Chief's dead! Get over it already." He shook his head sagely. The guy was barely in his twenties.

Thompson wanted to strangle him. But then, suddenly a voice talked from off screen.

"I believe someone wanted to talk to me?"

The newbie went rigid for a split second, then stood straight up and saluted the newcomer. "Sir!"

"At ease, son." The aged and battle-hardened face of Admiral Lord Hood filled the screen. "Thompson. Talk about good timing. A mysterious unknown object appears nearby, and you call in saying the Master Chief is back."

Thompson was relieved. "Yes, sir, he's back."

"And we've been firing at him?"

"Yes, sir. I tried to tell them to stop but – "

Lord Hood waved his hand dismissively. "Don't blame them, it was on my orders. We've stopped firing for now. What's the Chief's situation?"

Thompson gulped. "Not good, sir. He jumped for it."

Lord Hood sighed. "Why does he always have to jump . . .?"

A voice shouted from off screen. "Sir, we have witness reports that something has crash landed in the Atlantic Ocean!"

Hood's voice was sharp. "What is it?"

The voice sounded incredulous. "They say it's a Spartan sir. Emerald green, almost seven feet tall, MJOLNIR suit. Says his designation is . . ." he gulped, "Spartan -117!"

"What condition is he in?"

"Not good, sir. His suit was badly damaged on re-entry."

Hood nodded. "That's to be expected. Luckily for him – and for all of humanity – we've got a fresh new one ready for him back at the lab. The techies have been working on that since he disappeared, just in case."

Thompson nodded, his mind distant.

"You'd like to see him, wouldn't you?"

He hesitated – then nodded, knowing it was no use. Lord Hood was notorious for being a good reader of emotions.

Hood chuckled. "Son, you just helped Earth's greatest hero make it back home in one piece. I'll send a Pelican over in an hour. Hood out." The holoscreen went blank.

Thompson immediately began to pack. His mission was over – the Master Chief had been found. He could go back to his wife, his old life, and meet his revered hero!

The day couldn't get better.

"Penelope!"

"Yes?"

"Help me pack our stuff! We're leaving!"

"They are sending emissaries over, Arbiter."

"Who is it?" He stood at the control deck, the holoviewer showing the Precursor Sphere as they had recently dubbed it. The science department had said that the markings on its surface were older than even the Forerunners. Thus, the name Precursor.

"Unknown. But the soldiers are having a riot over it. I can't get a decent answer out of any of them as to what they look like", said the annoyed Ship Master.

The Arbiter sighed and turned to head towards the docking bay. "Then, I will see to his arrival myself. It would be rude not to meet with a guest you invite into your household."

The Ship Master nodded in agreement. Then he called out, "Arbiter, wait!"

The Arbiter paused and turned around. The Ship Master handed a Covenant Carbine to him. "Just in case."

The Arbiter shook his head. "I will not need it."

The Ship Master looked surprised. "Oh? Trying for a little human diplomacy I see."

The Elite Energy Sword ignited in the Arbiter's right hand, its blade deadly and bright. "I will not need it", he said again, but this time with a feral smile. Human diplomacy indeed.

The Ship Master chuckled.

"Sir!"

"What", the Ship Master barked.

"The guests have arrived."

"I know that already", the Ship Master said, exasperated.

"No, sir. I mean that they have arrived here, at the control deck!"

The Ship Master and the Arbiter turned as one, and eyed the elevator door. It began to hiss open, revealing the occupants.

The energy sword came up in a defensive stance, and the Arbiter heard the click of Covenant Carbines being powered up all around him. He smiled slightly – it was good to see that despite the respite from war, Covenant soldiers were as able and efficient as ever.

The doors finally opened all the way.

The Arbiter's eyes widened. A collective gasp went up from around the word.

Silence.

The armored figures stepped through. It was unmistakable. That armor – shiny, glinting in the light. Helmeted heads. Almost seven feet tall. Some wore different armor from the others, but they all shared a common look.

To the humans, they were known as Spartans.

But to the Covenant . . .

"Demons", said the Arbiter. He deactivated his energy sword, and he heard others following suit with their own weapons. The Arbiter and Ship Master strode forward to greet the new visitors.

A tall blue one, stepped up from the group and examined them both, his head cocked slightly to the side.

A second passed.

Then he gestured at his Spartan group.

They all suddenly armed themselves with the weapons magnetized to their backs. The Arbiter stopped, confused. Then –

"FIRE!" shouted the tall blue Spartan.

And all hell broke loose on the command deck.

Illuminated Pen here. I apologize that this took so long. School's almost over, though, so you'll be hearing more from me soon. So just bear with me. Two more weeks, yeah! Read and review. Oh, and in case you don't get who the Spartan group is, it's the guys from the "Ghosts of Onyx" book. Just an idea I had that seemed interesting to me.


End file.
